


Into Light

by YumeArashi



Series: Aboard the Ark [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Crisis of Faith, Existential Crisis, Gen, Moral Dilemmas, Natural Disasters, Orphans, Protective Crowley, desperate attempts to escape natural disasters, moral crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 05:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19716943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YumeArashi/pseuds/YumeArashi
Summary: Aziraphale finds Crowley's stowaways on the ark.





	Into Light

**Author's Note:**

> Follow up to https://archiveofourown.org/works/19338280 - reading that one first is strongly recommended.
> 
> Inspired by this tumblr post: https://rainydaydecaf.tumblr.com/post/185677767164/aziraphale-hanging-out-on-noahs-ark-watching-the

Aziraphale didn't like going into the hold of the ark. It was cramped, airless, and pitch-black aside from the tiny pool of light from one's torch. But it was also relatively dry, not crowded with other living things, and not stinking of crowded living things. Since that couldn't be said of the rest of the ark, Aziraphale found himself descending into the hold.

He paced the narrow paths between the diminishing stores, drawn to the far end for reasons he didn't understand at first. But as he got closer, he could sense the distortion of space, reality stretched and pulled like taffy (or, the way taffy would be, ages from now when it was invented). He got to the end of an aisle and put his hand up against the sacks of grain, then with a thought moved the stack elsewhere in the hold. 

The huge room beyond burst into panic, terrified cries and wails in thin high voices. Children swarmed, older ones pushing younger ones behind them or cradling them protectively in their arms, clustering fearfully.

Crowley's back had been to the 'door' when it vanished, but the second the chaos erupted he was on his feet. With wings spread wide to shield the children, all the horror of his true form faced the unknown threat. 

The angel stared at the huddled, frightened children and their demonic guardian. The children who would have - who _should_ have - died in the flood.

_Not the kids, you can't kill kids!_

Crowley resumed his human form but did not relax his posture one bit, as implacable as any angel. "The children stay. If you want them gone, you go through me." Previously when the two had conversed, they'd used the language of creation, the language of the garden before Babel broke it. But now the demon spoke the children's language, promising them that they were protected.

Aziraphale started for a long tense moment before lifting his hands, palms outward in the ancient, universal gesture of nonviolence. "I will not fight you," he said in the same language, slowly. 

The children relaxed, but tellingly, they did not relax much. They remained sheltered behind the great dark wings, still clinging close to one another, still protective of the smaller ones.

"And Noah and his family?" Crowley pressed.

Aziraphale swallowed hard. "I will say nothing to them. You have my word." He hesitated, seeing Crowley's guarded stare, then blurted, "I cannot help you. You must know that. If the humans come here and find them, if something happens, I…I cannot help you."

Crowley looked at him for a long moment, and there was something like pity in the serpentine eyes. He said very softly, "I know, angel."

Aziraphale supposed that if anyone understood the consequences for an angel disobeying Her will, it would be a demon.

He turned and fled, restoring the blockade of grain bags with a wave of his hand. He slipped unseen though the hold, the lower decks, the upper ones, out into the rain and atop the sheltering structure on the deck that housed Noah's family. He didn't raise his wings for shelter, letting the rain pour over him.

He had wanted to save them. 

When the rain broke, when it continued, he'd watched the people's jeers and mockery turn to fear with a sick heart. He'd watched them pound the sides of the ark with their fists, screaming hopeless pleas up the unfeeling hull to a deck too high to hear them. He'd seen mothers and fathers begging for their children's lives, bargaining with the whole of their earthly worth, seeking to send them away to safety, attempting to build flimsy rafts or rickety towers to reach above the water - trying anything at all that might keep their children safe. He'd seen those children, faces pale with terror, clinging to their desperate parents.

He'd seen these children, and he'd wanted to save them.

He hadn't done a thing.

Earth was a punishment, for Aziraphale. Her Light and Her Voice had vanished from him the moment he'd lied about the missing sword, and all the Host knew it. Truth be told, he was surprised he hadn't Fallen. True, he hadn't been _explicitly told_ not to give the sword to Adam and Eve, but then that was the slippery sort of defense only a demon would use. Gabriel - just as surprised that Aziraphale hadn't Fallen, and definitely not in a good way - had decided that he needed to be Made An Example Of, and had exiled the principality to Earth with the clear understanding that his next offense would be his last.

He had wanted to save the children, and he hadn't dared.

Instead, a demon had.

Crawly understood the angel's dilemma, Aziraphale was sure of it. The slitted gaze had held no judgment, only an understanding that was almost sorrowful in its depth. Had the demon known, and done what the angel could not for Aziraphale's sake? Or had he done it for no other reason than that he refused to stand by and watch terrified children drown? Could a demon even do the right thing?

 _Well it must be bad, if you did it_.

Was it an act of evil? Could it be, saving children's lives? Crawly would doubtlessly claim it was, should his superiors ever get wind of this. Aziraphale wasn't sure on what grounds he could make the claim, other than pure defiance of Her will, but no doubt the demon would find something. 

Perhaps that was enough, really. Perhaps if She had wanted the children dead, keeping them alive was evil for no more reason than that. But was it? She was angry, frustrated, had wanted to wipe the slate clean and start over. And yes, the humans had sinned - thank you, Crawly - but not the children. Children were innocent, they were guilty of nothing, they were themselves a blank slate. 

If this was an act of evil, why did Aziraphale feel nothing but relieved?

_Be a funny thing, wouldn't it, if I did the right thing and you did the wrong one?_

_No. No, not at all._

He turned his face up into the rain, eyes closed. Such a treasured thing, rain in the desert, so precious to all life there - until suddenly there was enough to kill. He had hidden away on the ark at the end, tending to the animals and trying not to hear the screams and pleas and prayers that reached his ears even though the thick wood.

He still grieved the tremendous loss of life, but whatever Her will, he could not find it in himself to be anything but glad that the children had been saved. Not even at the hands of a demon. Whatever ill might come of it later, he could not call it evil. It would doubtlessly be his downfall should it ever be known, but he would lock it up tight in his heart and hope for the best. 

Crawly, at least, would say nothing. Aziraphale couldn't say why he was so sure of it, but he was. A demon ought to leap at any change to destroy an angel, to drag it down into Hell with its brethren, but Crawly had had one opportunity already, and hadn't taken it. He would repay the angel's silence with his own, and none but the two of them would ever know what had transpired in that hold.

The two of them, and all the little lives stolen from the floodwaters.

He did not, could not, save them.

But he could overlook the demon who did.


End file.
